In Flight Entertainment
by She's Almost There
Summary: This is set after 'Midnight' so purely speculation, seen as it hasn't aired yet! The Doctor sees something that he thought impossible, something Donna recognises.


In-Flight Entertainment.

As soon as they get back to the TARDIS he's running up the ramp, tapping furiously at the console. The rotor flashes, wheezing and groaning and Donna knows they're away. He's still preoccupied, however, despite the fact that they have left Midnight. He's still pulling levers and typing furiously onto the keyboard. He's agitated, Donna can tell, he's been acting strangely ever since the shuttle got back. It's as if he's had had too much sugar and she's certain that isn't the case. No, it must be something else. What, she doesn't know but it's certainly got under his skin.

'Problem solved!' He calls to her, glancing briefly over at where she is stood. She hasn't even moved pass the ramp yet, leaning instead on the railing at her side. Watching.

'Another crisis averted…' he continues, 'another monster feeling sorry for itself, tail between its legs.'

Donna isn't fooled and moves towards him, palm grazing over the metallic rail.

'Not everyone came back, did they?' She questions.

He stills at her enquiry, if only for a second, and Donna knows she is right. Somebody had died out there, maybe even more than one person. He probably feels it's his fault.

She's about to put her hand on his shoulder, in order to try in comfort him in some way, when he turns to look at her. Her hand stills in mid air, he glances at her out stretched palm and then back at her face. She sees his mouth move but it takes a moment to register that he is speaking.

'The thing with buses, aeroplanes or even intergalactical Frisbees, Donna-'

He turns away from her then, focusing once more on the monitor and swinging it round even closer. Her hand falls to her side. '-Is that they all come with in-flight entertainment.'

She glances at the screen now, and doesn't see the familiar rotating Gallifreyan circles she has grown accustomed too. Instead the images are flickering, changing as the Doctor taps a key. It's the effect you gain channel hopping on a Friday evening when you're bored, 30 and wising you had something better to do. She grimaces as old memories resurface. Yet they don't matter, she's here now. She tries to focus instead on what he's saying, listens to him tell her about what he'd seen on board the bus.

'It was only there for a fraction of a second, but I thought, if I could just match the frequency...'

His sonic screwdriver buzzes as he pushes it against the screen. Numbers appear and Donna tries to take them in. First the number 2 flashes at the centre, then another and the Doctor is suddenly typing again, letting the sonic screwdriver roll of the console. She watches as it clangs on the grating and rolls slightly away.

More numbers are on the screen now, it appears he is typing them in. 2,2,3, followed by 9,6,5 and 3.

Donna remembers what he had said about frequencies and wonders if, perhaps, aliens all have different codes for different things, if its not just 90 for BBc radio two or 100, radio one but far more complex. She figures it probably is.

'Yes!' The Doctors sudden exclamation makes her jump and focus once more on what he's doing. On the screen all she can see is static but to him it seems miraculous. He turns another dial and suddenly the image focuses.

On the screen is a woman, young, Donna thinks; all big mouth and blonde hair. She's shouting, her mouth moving rapidly but without sound. Another flick of the switch and static fills the large room.

'Doctor!' the woman says; her lips not in time with her voice. 'Something's coming.'

The words are ominous and Donna looks at the Doctor, wanting to be able to make sense of what the hell it is she's seeing. He's pale and Donna suddenly realises that whatever this message, video thing is, it's important.

The sound cuts off and Donna looks back at the screen in time to see the words 'Bad Wolf' scrawled across the monitor. Whatever it is, Donna doesn't' know but something about her, the girl, whoever she is - is achingly familiar. The Doctor is back tapping keys and flicking switches, this time more agitatedly than before. His jaw is set and Donna sees the look in his eyes that she has come to fear. They're dead, stone, hard as granite and black as coal. She's reminded of her first meeting with him, the cool brutality she had witnessed as he killed the Racnoss.

'What was that?' He stops tapping at her question, instead pushing off the console and sinking into the jump seat with a hard thud. His feet rest on the console as his hands flies up to his eyes, rubbing them beneath his glasses.

'Nothing.' he says firmly, not looking up, his eyes tightly sealed.

A moment passes and he sighs, continuing, 'Everything?'

He pulls his hand away from is eyes and finally looks up at Donna. She hasn't moved yet, hand still resting on the TARDIS console.

'Rose.'

The air between the two of them is thick, Donna feels herself tense at the mention of the woman that haunts all the Doctors conversations. He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. With a nod he indicates back to the console monitors.

'Before, in the bus, she was just a flicker, there for a second. I just … guessed the frequency and there she was.' He bends down to reach the sonic screw driver lying by her foot. She doesn't go to help, instead watches his movements. Just as he is straightening into his sitting position, she tells him what she's certain is true.

'I recognise her.'

The Doctors eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he composes himself. Donna knows that look, hope.

He moves quickly, putting distance between them and ducking behind the central column in order to avoid eye contact.

'She worked in Henricks,' he mutters, as if it clarified the situation. 'The department store that blew up. She, she probably folded you a jumper or something.' Donna feels her teeth clench. He's wrong.

'No' she tells him. The look on his face would be comical if the situation weren't so grave. He looks confused, disappointed, and unaware that such a word existed.

'I mean, no I've met her.' His reply is sharp, the single syllable rings around the space.

'What?'

'Donna,' his voice is deep and contains the tone he uses for domination seeking aliens. 'You can't have. She's gone. I lost her,' he stresses the word lost and Donna wonders if that's how he feels. She's not truly lost; she wants to scream at him, you know perfectly well where she is!

'I'm not saying you didn't,' she mutters instead. He turns away, and she moves instinctively closer. He has to hear what she says. It could be important. Why can he not just believe?

'No,' she continues, 'I mean I've seen her.' Her emphasis goes on seen. 'She was wearing that, a purple jacket with a pink t-shirt. A clip in her hair.'

'Stop it,' he warns; his voice is harsh.

'I'm not lying!' She exclaims. Why can he not just listen, who cares if it means he's wrong? She clamps her hand to her forehead, wishing she could just remember; she knows she has seen her before, that woman on the monitor. Rose. Think! she screams to herself. Rose had been standing, leaning, Donna is sure. Barriers, police tape. Finally the scene comes to her, she remembers.

'Adipose!'

The Doctor finally looks at her then, confusion etched in his features.

'Then,' Donna says, 'I saw her then. With the keys, right? I told you, I was going to give my mum the car keys, left them in a bin instead.' Donna pauses, eyes checking for any sign that he believes her. 'She was there, Doctor. I promise you, I've met her.'

He shakes his head and it makes her blood boil. Why can't he just understand? So what if her memories defy all of time, it was _Rose_. He has crossed once more to the other side of the console and Donna feels like a puppy trailing after their master as she crosses to reach his side.

'Something's coming,' she hears him mutter under his breath, eyes down and body tilted away. She feels herself frown, confused at the strange alien stood before her. For all the moaning he does about the blonde not being here, he doesn't seem happy at the prospect of her return.

'It's impossible' he repeats, looking at the sonic screwdriver in his hands. 'She shouldn't have the power, it would be catastrophic. She shouldn't be here.' Donna watches his knuckles whiten as he clenches the screwdriver tighter.

Donna finds herself talking, trying to reassure him, if only slightly. 'It's got to be good though, hasn't it? This is Rose, Doctor. Rose. And,' she pauses, 'no matter what's happening, Rose is coming back. Isn't that good?'

The look on his face when he replies is all she needs. For despite the worried, pained expression he sports, she can see the utter relief and happiness underneath.

'Yeah.'


End file.
